Button (A-Z Story Game)
by claraowl
Summary: For Ren, after a bad day, some things are worth so much more than a button ever could be. Written for the A-Z Story Game, entry "B."


**Hello! I know that I should be working on the 4****th**** chapter of "The Truth about Onee-san" – but the plot bunny bit me, and refused to let go until this was completely written!**

**This is for the A-Z Story game on the SB forum, as the "B" entry for prompt "Button."**

**Given objective: Embarrass Ren! (Please let me know if I do a good job.)**

**Please enjoy! I do not own Skip Beat! **

Ren sighed heavily and ran his hand tiredly through his hair, gazing at the three small objects in his hand. Today _not _his day. Not only had his alarm clock gone off at three in the morning for whatever reason (this was the fault of a pixie who'd caught a ride on his shoe, but he had no way of knowing that at the time), resulting in only an hour of decent sleep the entire night, but he had also unwittingly worn mismatched socks, thus causing one foot to be slightly warmer than the other, and the press to have an absolute field day. He wouldn't be surprised if he started a new trend… honestly, people needed better things to worry about than his socks.

That wasn't all that had gone wrong, either; far from it. Due to his lack of sleep, he'd had more trouble than usual keeping a Kuon in check; fortunately, he'd been able to gather the reins before he frightened his manager _too_ badly. This slip had led to an interrogation – including an all-too-true jibe about him being grumpy for not having seen Kyoko lately outside of the Heels. He had then slightly tightened his grip on a bottle of juice (the machine had been out of coffee, which had not helped his mood), causing it to squirt orange liquid into the air. What goes up must come down, so his sleeve was subsequently soaked. Due to this, he was forced to borrow a suit from one of the many costume rooms at LME, and undergo Lory's slight guffaw at the thought of a supposed gentleman soaking his sleeve with juice. They were then very nearly late for his next job, and he may have driven a little faster than was strictly legal to get there – and, to his horror, had almost run over a stray cat in the process.

His day had not improved from there. The actress with whom he was shooting that day seemed more interested in him than in her lines, which grated at his professionalism. To make matters worse, one of the other actors was also more interested in romance than in work, and so attempted (quite clumsily, Kuon noted) to flirt with the aforementioned actress. This, of course, had made work go even more slowly than usual, and it took nearly as much self-control for him not to loudly make them aware of his waning patience as it did to restrain himself around Kyoko – which just proves how little patience he had left, as his self-control around Kyoko is usually extraordinary, as she tests it frequently and unintentionally. The director had eventually just given up on the scene for the day, and told them all to leave, saying that the air was wrong that day, and that he should've listened to his fortune teller.

Then Yashiro had forced him to eat lunch – and Kyoko was nowhere to be seen. He ate, somewhat bitterly, enough to temporarily appease Yashiro, mentally grumbling at his own weakness and pining for his beloved. He hadn't even talked to her as of late, and did not have her e-mail address. This last realization irritated him further, and his storm clouds only grew as he attempted without success to think of a half-way decent plan to convince her that there was nothing presumptuous about e-mailing her 'sempai.' His mood had not been helped by Yashiro's correct assumption (and teasing) about his only ever showing any facial expression outside of work when Kyoko-chan was involved. He had been forced to send his manager one of BJ's glares to cease the teasing before something in him snapped. He'd then stood up and rushed to his final location of the day (planned to finish up crucial parts of a movie) – only to discover that his co-star was out with food poisoning, and so the filming had to be postponed for three days.

He'd then decided to haunt the hallways of LME for a little while, hoping for a glimpse of a certain shade of pink. As happenstance flatly refused to be on his side that day, he had instead been tripped by Natsuko, Lory's beloved baby anaconda, and landed flat on his face. Natsuko had then taken the opportunity to give him a serpentine hug, and he had been forced to wiggle in a most undignified way to free himself of the snake. Natsuko, who did not take kindly to having her hugs rejected, had latched onto his button-down shirt with her mouth. He stood, and Natsuko lost her grip on his shirt – but not on his buttons. She thudded to the floor with three of his buttons in her mouth, thus leaving his shirt hanging open; the snake deposited the buttons on the floor at his feet, hissed slightly at their poor flavor, and vanished around a corner. He picked up the buttons and wiped some snake saliva off of them, and then ran his hand through his hair again. Today was definitely _not_ his day.

This thought was confirmed when Kyoko rounded the corner and saw him with his shirt mostly undone, his hair unkempt, the sleeve of his suit (which he'd retrieved after he'd learned that his jobs were done for the day) still slightly orange, and clutching three slightly slimy buttons. Yes, he'd been wanting to see her – but why did she have to catch him in one of the most undignified positions possible? He mentally grimaced, imagining any respect she'd ever had for him going out the window. She blinked a few times, taking in his appearance. He braced himself for the worst.

And then she had laughed, and his worries temporarily melted away like so many flakes of dried-up soap. Kyoko was laughing – at him, yes – but the sound soothed his ears, proved that she was at least slightly more comfortable around him than before, and did for his mood what no amount of coffee or properly done scenes ever could have done. He smiled honestly for the first time that day. "Good afternoon, Mogami-san."

"G-Good afternoon, Tsuruga-san!" she choked back between laughs, bowing. "I don't mean to be rude – I'm so sorry for laughing at you, but -!"

"It's fine. I'm sure that if I could see me right now, I'd laugh too." He was smiling even more widely now; honestly, it was amazing what this girl could do. Hadn't he been on the verge of releasing Kuon on the world just half an hour ago? Now, all he wanted to do was be near her in whatever form she allowed – and to whatever extent he could.

Eventually (and to his disappointment, as it was now one of his favorite sounds), Kyoko was able to reign in her wild laughter. "If you don't mind my asking, Tsuruga-san, what happened?"

"Luck does not like me today," he sighed slightly. "I appear to be a magnet for juice, snakes, and generally inconvenient shifts in my work schedule today."

"So that's why Natsuko was so happy…" Kyoko mused softly, before saying in a normal tone, "I'm truly sorry to hear that you've had a bad day. Am I keeping you from anything?"

"No, not at all. My co-star is suffering from food poisoning, so my entire evening is suddenly free." Here he paused, weighing his options. "And I'm afraid that I don't have anyone to spend it with."

"Will your co-star be alright?" Her eyes were full of concern; his attempt at a subtle invitation whistled mockingly as it flew over her head.

"Yes, she'll be fine soon. She just needs a few days to recover. I heard that her shrimp wasn't properly prepared." He sighed inaudibly; why had he even hoped that she'd catch his hint?

Her shoulders visibly relaxed. "That's a relief to hear. I'm glad that she'll be okay."

Their quiet chatter continued for a few minutes longer, with many failed hints on Ren's part. It was only when he absentmindedly clicked the still semi-slimy buttons in his hand together that they remembered his state of unkemptness. "Ah… by the way, Mogami-san, do you happen to have a sewing kit with you?"

"Of course! It's in my locker in the Love Me room. I'll go get it for you!"

"I'll come with you; it would be easier for me to sew these back on sitting down."

She smiled at him, and was kind enough to pretend not to notice when he nearly tripped over his own two feet. (The pixie had put a series of spells on him that morning, but he had no way of knowing that – and would not find out until the next time Kyoko came over to cook dinner.) He schooled his features, doing his utmost to prevent an embarrassed flush from creeping up his neck. He was twenty-one. He should be more coordinated than this... keyword being 'should.'

Kyoko led the way into the Love Me room, and ushered him over to one of the chairs. He found her oddly adamant that he stay in this section while she fetched her sewing kit from the lockers; this was, of course, due to the Ren dolls that lived there, but he was not to know that (until much time had passed, and he had volunteered to help her clean out her locker during her graduation from the Love Me section). So he sat, and observed his truly laughable appearance in the mirror on the opposite wall of the room – the only thing that was not some hideously bright shade of pink, red, or yellow. Kyoko had been right to laugh at him; he looked ridiculous – had the public seen this sorry sight, his reputation would've taken a very rough blow. Then again, some girls went for the unkempt type – something about their mothering instincts….

Kyoko slipped back into the room and handed him the sewing kit, then went over to a nearby desk and began wading through some paperwork. He thanked her, opened the lid, and cut an appropriate amount of thread from the spool. Then, after several rather pathetic failed attempts, he managed to thread the needle – and then realized that this would require taking off his shirt. This normally would not have been a problem, but he was not sure if Kyoko would handle this too well as herself. Yes, she'd handled Cain strutting around half-naked quite well as Setsu – she'd even walked in on his bath on more than one occasion, for crying out loud – but she was a rather traditional Japanese woman, and this might make her uncomfortable if she had to handle it as herself.

Kyoko, glancing up from her papers, mistook his pause for something else entirely. "Do you not know how to sew, Tsuruga-san?"

Ren, sensing a lifeline if things worked out the way he hoped (though his hopes were not high, if his day was any clue by which to go), nodded sheepishly. It wasn't really a lie; he knew a few basic stitches, but was unable to do many in a row, or well. For him, sewing was something done in an emergency, only when all other options failed – much like cooking. "If it's not too much trouble, may I please ask for your assistance?"

"Of course." An almost fond smile graced her lips, and Setsu slipped out as she got to her feet and walked over to sit next to him, her height affording her an excellent view of his buttonholes. "Honestly, how have you survived without me, not knowing how to cook or sew?"

"Mine has been a sad existence without you," he admitted, not quite sure who he was as he handed her the needle and the first button.

"Well, it's a good thing that I'm here, then, isn't it?" She began sewing the lowest popped button into place, pulling his shirt perpendicular with his skin so as not to accidentally prick him with the needle.

"It is indeed," he said softly, basking in the occasional brush of skin on skin and the fact that she had not turned tail and run from this situation. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Her cheeks grew lightly colored; whether this reaction was from his words or his proximity, he could not tell, nor did he care – as long as that blush was for him, he could have some hope.

"Well, of course not. You're my onii-san, after all," she smiled up at him for a brief second, then returned to her work.

His heart deflated slightly. He should have known better than to have hoped for anything true; the blush was just Setsu reacting to Cain. The poor girl must've pulled Setsu out so she wouldn't offend her own principles by whatever small contact was derived from something like this. The needle, quick in her fingers, moved up to sew on the next button. Her fingers brushed lightly through his open palm to retrieve it, sending miniature lightning bolts flashing through his nervous system. His hand shook; her thread missed when she attempted to re-thread her needle. The corners of his mouth quirked at this; he did affect her, at least a bit.

A snarky corner of his mind inquired if he'd electrocuted her, and she was simply shaking from the shock of the residual static. This part of his mind was not hushed as quickly as it should have been, but was eventually shushed nonetheless.

Kyoko continued her work in silence, Setsu long since gone, leaving her to fight her blush on her own. Yes, he looked ridiculous – not that she'd even know that that was possible for him – and his socks didn't match… but that did not change the fact that she had never quite gotten used to seeing even a bit of his skin before her box had been opened, and now it was almost unbearably distracting. It would not do for her to stare; what if her needle missed, and punctured his skin? He was an actor, and a model! It would be terrible, and all her fault, just because she couldn't keep duty separate from her terrible secret!

A part of her mind questioned his inability to sew, going so far as to wonder if this was some sort of ruse. This thought was more quickly discarded than it should have been, as it was partially correct in that he was thoroughly enjoying this slow torture of her closeness. She glanced up after finishing the second button, and caught him gazing at her with his eyes full of something forbidden. She blinked a few times, pink now more pronounced on her cheeks, and almost shyly reached for the third and final button.

At which point the door burst open, admitting an overly flamboyant Lory Takarada into the room he had personally helped decorate. "Mogami-kun! I have good news – oh! Am I interrupting… something?" His eyes twinkled with excitement, and his smile grew wide.

The scene did indeed seem suspicious. The door bursting open had caused Ren's had to jerk, sending the button flying. Kyoko had similarly jerked, though in her case her entire body had jerked to the other end of the couch. Add into that mix the facts that Ren looked slightly dazed, his top button seemed to be ripped off in a hurry, and Kyoko's cheeks were now approaching cherry, and Lory's suspicions would seem almost completely founded in fact.

Kyoko recovered slightly more quickly than Ren, and held up her sewing needle. "Natsuko bit a few of Tsuruga-san's buttons off, and he couldn't quite get the needle to cooperate, so I was lending what assistance I could."

Lory grinned, and made a mental note to check the security camera to see exactly how close she'd been required to get to give this 'assistance.' "Yes, of course… _assistance_." He grinned at Ren and waggled his eyebrows, causing the actor to snap out of his stupor and Kyoko to turn a lovely shade of burgundy.

"If you'll excuse me, I should probably be going. Yashiro will be looking for me," Ren sighed, standing and hiding the lightly guilty blush that had appeared when Lory had. His time with Kyoko was over for the day, apparently.

"What about the last button?" Kyoko inquired, holding up her needle. "I'd only done two when the door opened."

Lory grinned again. How close _had_ they been, if Ren's cheeks had briefly colored through his mask because of this?

"It's quite alright. I seem to have misplaced the button anyway," he smiled, softly, and stood. "Thank you for helping me with my buttons, Mogami-san. It was very kind of you, and probably the only thing that's gone right for me today."

"It was nothing!" she squeaked, waving her hands slightly. "Just what's expected of me as a dutiful kohai!"

Lory repressed a snort at these words. To him, it seemed more like the actions of a loving, devoted wife or girlfriend than something a kohai would do.

"Thank you, either way," Ren smiled again – killing one or two grudge Kyokos in the process – and took his leave. He had barely turned the corner when he met with his manager, who hurriedly shoved what looked like a curious and frankly suspicious cross between a thin periscope and a camera into his briefcase.

In the future, Ren would thank Yashiro for the pictures… but for now, he was simply irritated that his time with Kyoko had been infringed upon in any way, shape, or form.

And then he smiled, his fingers brushing the spot where the button had been; this was definitely now one of his favorite shirts. In the future, he would look at it fondly and remember – sometimes aloud to her, sometimes mentally to himself – how worried she'd been for days afterwards about the missing button, even though it was in no way her fault. Now, he smiled because he could smell a hint of her on the thread now securing the buttons to his shirt. Yes, he was hopeless, and yes, Yashiro was squealing and pestering him for what had happened in the time he'd spent with Kyoko – for only something good happening with Kyoko _could_ put a smile on his face, no matter what type of day he'd had. He did not answer, instead absently tracing the unmatched buttonhole with his fingertip.

Their time together was always brief, but to him, it was worth far more than any number of buttons ever could hope to be. To him, it was priceless.

**Ta-daa~! *tired little cheer***

**That took two hours from start to finish – that's the fastest I've written anything in years, and after midnight at that! Huzzah! **

**I hope that you liked it!**

**Join the A-Z Game! :D It's fun!**


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